The Heat of the Moment
by Cassieopeia
Summary: What was the real reason that Hermione kissed Ron in Deathly Hallows? Takes place after DH. Spoilers. One-shot. A little R/Hr fluff.


Hermione stared at her reflection. She touched her cheek. She turned her head, examining her face from different angles through the mirror over Ginny's vanity. She was sure that she should look different. So many things had happened since Hermione had last looked in a mirror. Voldemort had been living, the Wizarding World had been in jeopardy, their futures had been unpredicted.

She had kissed Ron.

She had kissed him.

And although the other things that had happened had been much bigger, it was the last thought that made her insides churn and her stomach drop to her knees. The butterflies had grown teeth and were eating her up inside.

They hadn't spoken since, or even looked at each other really. The day of the battle seemed so long ago and in the cramped little home that had seen seven Weasleys grow up, Hermione felt as if she couldn't get away from Ron. When she went to find Ginny, he'd turn up in her way and they'd simultaneously move to the same side in an attempt to be out of the way, but really only getting directly in the other's path. Or if she'd help Harry de-gnome the garden, he'd come out to fly his broom. Or when she went to comfort Molly as she randomly burst into tears over Fred, triggered by the smallest things, he'd be there, on his mother's other side, a hand on her elbow. And each time they'd awkwardly exchange pleasantries without eye contact, get caught trying to sneak glances at one another, and usually somehow accidentally share some sort of physical contact-like a brushing of elbows when walking through the narrow halls or a clashing of hands as they reached for the same item-which would cause them to turn bright red and make some excuse to flee from the embarrassing situation.

Hermione was still staring determinedly at her reflection when someone knocked on Ginny's door. She didn't look away from the reflection of her eyes as she called for them to come in. Her gaze flitted up to the top of the mirror, reflection back Ron standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Er… so, Ginny says that she'll be gone for a while… That she won't be back until after dinner, she reckons… Went out to get something for Mum." He shifted on his feet and scratched the back of his head, unable to meet her eyes. Hermione nodded mutely, though he wouldn't have seen. He glanced up and their eyes locked for a split second. Both instinctively looked away and Hermione felt a warm blush creep up her cheeks as she stared at Ginny's bedspread. The silence seemed to double in time and after a few seconds of maddeningly painful silence that seemed to buzz with tension Ron spoke again.

"Uhh… so… well, er, the thing is that I sort of wanted to see if we could talk." Hermione glanced up to see him staring up at the ceiling. He glanced down, as if sensing her stare. She didn't look away, her curiosity overpowering her embarrassment and she was pleased to see that his blush matched hers. It darkened under her stare.

"You see." He stepped into the room and went over to look out Ginny's bedroom window as an excuse not to look at her. It was a nice day and he had a good view of the garden from here. Harry was out there, staring into the distance, hands in his jacket pockets. He'd spent a lot of time alone since the battle. The rest of the time he spent with Ginny.

As her older brother, Ron wasn't thrilled about this development, but admitted that he preferred Harry over her other suitors. However, he kept a strict eye on them and would throw a fit if they did more than hold hands. He pulled faces even when they did that, but said nothing. Of course, he was envious of their relationship. They were able to be together now. He was still walking on eggshells. It wasn't fair.

"The thing is, Hermione." Her name felt unfamiliar on his tongue-like a book you'd read before but hadn't picked up in years, you knew what it was like, but had forgotten mostly what it was about-and he realized that this was the first time he'd said it since the battle. He hadn't spoken directly to her since that day, except when necessary and then he kept it short. He would not waste a few more seconds of embarrassment on saying her name.

"The thing is Hermione," he repeated. Hermione was quiet, waiting patiently for him to muster the courage and the articulation to get it out. "I wanted to ask you… about the battle."

She didn't answer him. What would she say? They both knew what he was talking about, but she wasn't going to embarrass herself that easily, not without an equal amount on his part, at least. No, she was dragging this out as long as she could. She'd avoid it forever if it was an option.

"The battle?"

"Yeah, right after-right after we came out of the Chamber of Secrets. Remember?" He still had his back to her, faced out the window. She gulped.

"I do." Hermione fidgeted and fought the urge to run from the room. She felt as if she might vomit.

"And you… you… You kissed me."

There it was.

It was out in the open, floating through the air for anyone to hear. If she'd been Luna Lovegood, she would've known some way to capture it. Some pixie or wild flesh-eating plant that would eat it and never let it leave this room or catch it and allow her to trap it in a jar. But she was not Luna Lovegood, she was Hermione Granger and she knew there was no such thing, although sometimes she did believe that ignorance was bliss.

"Yes. I remember," she stated blankly. His shoulders tightened slightly. This was it. He was going to reject her. And so she had frozen, her lips numb from pressing them together so hard. His shoulders were scrunched up, but no other indication he'd moved was visible.

"Why-" His voice broke. He cleared it. "Why did you kiss me?"

Hermione thought. Why had she kissed him?

Was it the mortal peril? Did the thought of being so close to death make her do it? She remembered the rush of fear, so unlike any of the other times that she'd brushed fingers with death, somehow managing to get on by the skin of her teeth. But it had never been like that before. She had known, as she clutched the basilisk fangs and saw the looks on her two best friend's faces that this was the end. There would be no disapparating, no house elves to rescue them, and no dragon's to fly them to safety. After the last Horcrux was destroyed, they would fight. It had all been leading up to this and now it was time.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure what had made her do it. Maybe it was his concern for her when Bellatrix had raised her wand to Hermione. Maybe it was when he expressed care for the house elves' safety. Or maybe it was simply seven years of feelings for Ron that had made her do it. For that split second when she threw her arms around Ron's neck and pressed her lips to his, she understood why she'd been sorted into Gryffindor. Not because she had gone on the run with Harry Potter, Undesirable Number One. Not because she'd looked Bellatrix Lestrange in the eye as she tortured her, and hadn't given away anything. Not because she was about to face bigger dangerous than any eighteen year old girl-or anyone else, for that matter-should ever have to face.

It's easy to stick up for your friends, or to cast a spell for the greater good, or to stand up for one's beliefs. But baring your entire mind and soul to the person who matters most in your eyes, allowing them to judge your innermost workings is the hardest thing that Hermione Granger had ever had to do. And she realized, in that moment, that was the bravest she'd ever been. It was instinctive to stand up for herself and her friends and to fight. But letting her guard down and being weak was not something that was natural or easy for Hermione and exercising it in front of the man that meant everything to her took more courage than she was conscious that she had.

She knew that she'd been destined for this. She was born to help Harry win this war and to be his friend. That's what she would be remembered for. Hermione would always be seen as the witch that helped destroy Voldemort and restore the Wizarding World. But she knew that wasn't all she was destined for.

Kissing Ron, she had decided, had been fate. Not just an act of momentary panic or fleeting passion. It was something much more.

And now he was standing there, asking why she had done it in that blank voice, unable to look at her. This was it, the moment of truth. It had taken all her courage to kiss him and she knew that admitting it would take even more. Hermione felt more anxious than she had days ago, when she'd watched Harry dueling Voldemort.

"I-I don't know. You just-You said that about the elves and I was scared and I just got caught up in the heat of the moment."

"The heat of the moment," Ron repeated. He still hadn't turned to face her, but his voice had been oddly blank and dead.

He was going to reject her and she was going to lose her best friend. She was going to lose him. But she couldn't find it in her to regret it. He'd seemed to like it at the time. She could still feel his fingers wrapped around her waist, lifting her up so he could get better access to her mouth. She could remember the taste of his lips and how gentle they were against hers, urgently moving as if to get his point across. And she had thought that he'd wanted to kiss her just as much as she had wanted to kiss him. But now she wasn't so sure. All the past gentle touches and caring words now seemed like lies. She felt foolish, as if she'd misinterpreted everything. She was angry.

"Well, it's not as if we weren't seconds away from being slaughtered! People often do silly things when under pressure!" she retorted icily. He turned around now.

She had just realized how terrible he looked. His eyes were bloodshot and there were deep, dark circles under each, accentuated by a sickly, grayish tint to his skin. His hair was a mess and looked as if it hadn't been properly washed or combed in weeks. He was glaring at her, but she could see his exhaustion underneath. Her anger melted a little and her face softened.

"Of course. Forgive me if I actually thought you might harbor any interest in me at all. I should've known that kissing me would be a 'silly' mistake. How stupid of me," Ron spat, acidic. His eyes glowed with anger and something that looked like hurt, but Hermione knew better than to think it.

"You're not stupid." Hermione reached out a hand to comfort him, but he dodged it. That hurt her worse than his anger. "And I didn't say it was a mistake-"

"But we all know it was. Who in their right minds would want me next to Harry Potter? Just go off and snog him then. I'll just leave you to it." Ron tried to step past her, but she blocked his path.

"Is that what you think?" she asked shrilly, wondering when her voice had gotten so high. He looked down at her, still glaring, his blue eyes turned to ice.

"Yeah, I do. Go on then, don't mind me." She gaped.

"I-I can't even believe-I mean what would make you think-Harry and Ginny-" she couldn't seem to get anything across, her anger rendering her speechless. Ron took advantage of it.

"I've seen the way you look at him. The way you act. Like he needs taking care of. Just go on and admit it that you fancy him. You two can run off and get married and maybe then the pair of you will stop stringing us Weasley's along." Hermione felt a mixture of anger and sadness. Part of her wanted to cry and the other part wanted to hit him.

"He's only just defeated Voldemort! He's blaming himself for the death's of everyone! He thinks it's his fault that Teddy will grow up without parents! That you lost your brother because of him! He feels at fault!" she yelled, desperate to make him understand.

"Yeah, well, maybe it is." Hermione grew quiet.

"You don't really think that, Ron." They stared at each other, their anger feeding off the other's. She knew that the subject of Fred had been an unspoken loss. No one had said his name, for fear of Molly bursting into tears. George hadn't been seen for a few days and everyone had taken to a somber, brooding mood. Celebration had been short-lived. Under any other circumstance, Ron would've scoffed at the idea that Harry was to blame. He would have reassured him that none of the suffering was his doing and he would be upset that he could even think such a thing. But now that it was his own brother, he was not so sure. Or maybe he was just trying to hurt Hermione as much as she had hurt him.

"I don't. I'm just tired of him getting everything that I want," Ron replied. His eyes lingered on Hermione for a second longer than necessary and he moved to step around her again. She put a hand to his shoulder.

"Ron…" she whispered. He brushed her hand away, walking past her. She blinked back tears and stayed rooted to the spot, facing the window that he'd been looking out of minutes ago. She heard the door open behind her and knew that he was leaving.

"I've always know that you liked him better," Ron muttered sulkily.

"Then why didn't I kiss him!"

She wasn't sure what made her say it. Maybe it was her Gryffindor courage, making it's presence known again. Or maybe it was just the anger that pulsed through her at his assumption of knowing her feelings. Maybe she was tired of him comparing himself to Harry. Or maybe, after seven years of non-stop arguing, she just couldn't resist the opportunity to row with him.

At any rate, the words came out of her mouth before they'd gotten permission from her brain and she'd seemed as surprised to hear it falling past her lips as Ron was. She'd turned on her heel after she yelled it and he was gaping at her, mouth open and eyes wide, sure he'd heard her wrong. She was as shocked as he was that she'd said it and proceeded to smack a hand over her own mouth. Reverting to their old habits, they both turned bright red and averted their gazes, staring at the floor and shifting on their feet.

After few moments of awkward silence, Hermione tried to speak. She wanted to right this, to put everything behind them and get back to being friends without all this awkward tension and uncomfortable silence. She didn't want to fight with him anymore.

"Ron…" She trailed off when she looked up to see him staring at her. They were both quiet, but neither of them looked away.

"Did you mean it?" he demanded. He had a ferocity in his gaze and she knew that this was too important for her to lie.

"Yes," she admitted quietly. He looked at her for a long time, his gaze making her feel small. She could see a fire in the blue depths as he ran his stare up and down her body, drinking in the sight as if he'd never see her again. He wanted to remember this moment, everything about it, and it was most important that he get the memory of her perfect.

Ron noticed everything. The way she stood, as if he intimidated her, her expression of bewildered awe, her brown eyes large and her lips parted and slightly open. He remembered how soft they had been and he ached to run his fingertips along her bottom lip.

After another few seconds of silence, he advanced, crossing the room until he stood in front of her. She took a step back, intimidated by his determined look and she was suddenly aware of how much taller he was. He had her cornered, backing her up until she felt the back of her legs against the seat below Ginny's window. He hadn't broken eye contact with her.

Without even registering what he was doing, Ron bent down and pressed his lips to hers. She was shocked, but not displeased and she could feel her body taking over. Hermione placed her hands on his chest, slowly moving them up until they wrapped around his neck. One of his hands was on the back of her head, laced in her hair, the other large hand was on the small of her back, pressing her body into his. Hermione molded herself to him, the arms around his neck bringing him closer.

Ron moved his lips and kissed down her jaw to her neck, sucking slightly on the skin there. She closed her eyes, breathing uneven. His lips on her skin left a burning sensation and she was sure there would be marks left from where his mouth had charred her neck. She suddenly realized the increase in temperature and wondered when it had gotten hotter.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, he moved her slightly to the right and picked her up by her waist. Ron pressed her against the wall next to the window, their faces now level. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him harder. His tongue pried her mouth open and one of the hands on her waist fluttered higher, to the underside of her breast…

"Harry," a voice outside giggled. Ron immediately set Hermione on her feet and they broke apart. Hermione leaned against the wall, chest rising with her heavy breaths and palms flat against the wall behind her. Ron backed up several steps. They were good six feet away from each other when the door opened to reveal Ginny and Harry, hands laced together. Ron and Hermione were both bright red and, although they were nearly across the room from each other, they were sure their mad blushing and inability to meet each other's gazes gave them away. Ginny arched an eyebrow as Harry looked between the two, confused.

"Hi," Ginny greeted suspiciously. Ron zeroed in on their hands and glared, but said nothing. Hermione blushed deeper as Harry's expression went from confused to shocked understanding.

"So," Ginny said after a moment of stretched silence, when no one returned her hello. "What have you two been doing while I was away?" She looked between the two, trying to meet Hermione's gaze.

"Nothing really," Ron mumbled. He still couldn't look anyone in the face, fearing that his body would betray him.

"Hmm. Hermione you look a bit flushed. Something the matter?" She could hear the smirk in Ginny's voice. She scowled at the ground.

"I'm sure that I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione answered in a dignified tone, raising her chin a bit higher. Ginny smirked.

"Well, Harry and I are going downstairs," she announced, shooting Ron a dark look that dared him to contradict her. Harry glanced at both of them oddly before closing the door behind him.

Ron and Hermione were both quiet, but the silence seemed louder than any of their rows had ever been. Neither of them knew what to say, but the snogging that had just taken place wasn't small enough that it could be ignored. Grudgingly, Ron spoke.

"About that kiss…" he started, then glanced up at Hermione. They both blushed even harder when they met eyes.

"Oh, I know," she said quickly, sparing him some embarrassment.

"Right, I was just… Caught up in the heat of the moment."

She laughed. She couldn't help herself.

"So, I'm sure you won't mind if I do it again," he whispered. She stopped smiling, serious now as she met his gaze. Ron was staring forcefully at her. He was slowly moving towards her.

"No, not at all," she answered quietly. As he reached her, he smiled and pushed her back against the wall, placing both of his hands on either side of her head.

"Good, because I plan on doing it frequently."

Ron bent down and pressed his lips to Hermione's, and she couldn't help but smile as she let her guard down in front of Ron, content with the knowledge that he liked what he saw.

A/N: Oh, those two! So clueless. But what would we do without them? (:


End file.
